


The Captain's Demons

by junko



Series: 'Tails' of Zabimaru [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-08 09:17:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shunsui Kyōraku's interest in Renji's education is getting some unwanted attention.  This is a problem because Shunsui has secrets of his own he needs to keep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Captain's Demons

**Author's Note:**

> Captain Shunsui Kyōraku is my newest crush. (I'm having a real girlish squee over the Japanese voice actor lately.) After having a long conversation with a friend about him, we decided certain things about his personality make more sense if he had a secret mission. See if you agree.

Even though he held on to his light smile, Shunsui Kyōraku had a very uneasy feeling about this meeting with the Captain-Commander. What bothered him in particular was the way that Yamamoto refused to look at him and the silence that stretched between them while the head captain considered his words.

“You might as well just spit it out,” Shunsui suggested pleasantly, tipping his hat to glance up at where the head captain sat on his dais. “It can’t possibly be that bad.”

“Hmph, very well. I’ve heard rumors that you’re interfering in Academy business and that you’ve taken an… _unnatural_ interest in a student there.”

“Ah, ha,” Shunsui sighed, dipping his head. “‘Unnatural.’ A very revealing choice of words, Old Man. I see that Mr. Gengorō has finally found a soft spot at which to strike at me. That I am sitting here at all suggests that he has scored a direct hit as you believe him, or, are at least willing to entertain the idea that I’m the sort of person who would predicate on a vulnerable young boy.”

“And?”

Shunsui shook his head, and lifted a shoulder in a heavy shrug, “And nothing. My battle is already lost. If you didn’t instantly dismiss the accusation as preposterous, there’s little I can say to convince you otherwise.”

Yamamoto’s stern expression darkened into a deep frown. “You have nothing to say in your defense? Nothing at all?”

Shunsui mustered a little laugh. “Oh, I have plenty to say. It’s just useless. That you’ve already considered me even capable of such a monstrous, disgusting thing is damaging enough.”

“Oh, come on, now, Shunsui!” The head captain blustered. “Everyone knows how you are with your lieutenant. What am I supposed to think?”

“Exactly,” Shunsui said, tipping his hat and giving Yamamoto a wan smile.

The head captain stroked his beard thoughtfully for a long moment. “Are you suggesting that Headmaster Ōnabara is using your reputation against you unfairly?”

_Yes, but it’s so much more effective when you say it_, Shunsui hid his smile behind his hat with a deep, respectful nod.

“I don’t understand this, then,” the head captain continued, clearly flustered. “Why would Ōnabara make that kind of allegation against one of my captains?”

_Ah, suddenly, I’m yours again. How comforting,_ Shunsui thought sarcastically, though he carefully kept his expression humbly pleasant. “Well, I am quite guilty of overstepping my authority with Mr. Gengorō , I’m afraid. I insisted that a candidate be accepted into the Academy -- a moderately-talented young man from Inuzuri whom I believe came there in search of his zanpaktō.”

“His zanpaktō? What? How can that be?”

Shunsui lifted his hat and an eyebrow. “Really? You of all people ask that? I expect such surprise in the younger generation, but, seriously, Old Man, it can’t be that long ago. You _must_ remember the hot, intense, and passionate call of Ryūjin Jakka.”

Yamamoto seemed startled for a moment, but then grunted. “Yes, but those were different times.”

“Are they? Despite your careful planning, the new Kenpachi seems to have found his zanpaktō while wandering in the wilderness. And he gathers to him all sorts who have bypassed Academy and yet possess very powerful zanpaktō.” Shunsui watched the captain’s face crumple with disapproval. “Yes, so you see why I find it such a treasure to discover a young man _in school_ with the same instinct, same talent. His zanpaktō awaits him at _Academy_. Do we not want to encourage such people, those who would find themselves instinctively drawn into your noble institution, who crave its higher learning and discipline?”

 

#

“I really, really need a drink,” Shunsui grumbled, as he lowered himself onto the picnic blanket Jūshirō Ukitake had spread out for them. They sat on the dock overlooking the lake at the Thirteenth Division’s headquarters. The sun glittered on the smooth surface of the water and reflected off the tall, green cattails. On the far shore, a mating pair of cranes called softly to each other.

“Why today more than any other, my dear?” Jūshirō laughed lightly, pouring sake into bowls for them both.

“I,” he sighed dramatically, draining the drink in one long swallow before offering it to be refilled, “had to work today. It was ridiculously unfair, Shirō. I had to use all my skills, too, every last one of them, to convince the old man that I’m not a child molester.”

“Oh?!” Jūshirō nearly choked on his own sake, which caused him to have a mini coughing fit. Once he recovered his breath, he continued to sputter, “Good heavens! What happened? Why would the head captain ever believe such a terrible thing of you!?”

“Apparently, I have a reputation as a bit of a carouser, if you can believe that,” he laughed lightly, though he didn’t try as hard to hide his pain from Jūshirō. “I always said, didn’t I, that someday all this acting to protect us would come back to bite me in the butt?”

“Don’t you try to put this on my shoulders, Shunsui. I never insisted we needed protection. You’re the one who always wants distance… ‘deniability.’”

Shunsui dropped their old argument with a sigh and a dismissive wave of his hand, “True, true. It’s my own damn fault. Still, it’s disappointing that I’m such a fine actor that even Old Man Yama will believe I’d chase _anything_ in hakama. He was _supposed_ to think I’d only chase the girls. I must be overdoing it somehow.”

“Maybe it’s the pink kimono.”

“Ha! Yes, that could be it. But it is so very fabulous on me, don’t you think?”

“Yes, my love, very.” Jūshirō dug some plates and chopsticks from the basket, as he searched through the things, his dark eyebrows drew into a slight frown. “You know I trust you completely, but… tell me again where this accusation came from? Someone in your Division feeling too ‘acted’ on, are they?”

Shunsui caught Jūshirō’s gaze and held it. “No, it’s a boy at Academy.”

“Oh, I see,” Jūshirō broke their eye contact, and feigned interest in lunch. His voice was quiet as he repeated, “A _boy_?”

“You’d be just as upset if it were a girl. You know I like both.”

“I know you’ll play with both. I think a boy has a better chance of stealing your heart.”

Shunsui smiled and tucked a stray bit of snow white hair behind Jūshirō’s ear. “Only because you did.”

Jūshirō brushed off the affectionate touch, and continued to lay out the food, saying nothing. His lips were a thin line.

“You’re really that worried, are you?” Shunsui sighed. His voice was teasing and light, as he said, “You know, the boy had concerns too. I must be losing my touch, if everyone thinks I’m sly and dangerous. Although I chalked up the boy’s mistake to his background—he’s fresh off the streets of Inuzuri. I suspect trust comes hard to someone like that.” Shunsui sat up a bit when Jūshirō continued to give him the silent treatment. “A thousand years isn’t enough to earn _your_ trust, then? If I was having a secret affair, why would I tell you all about it?”

Jūshirō looked up sharply then, his green eyes flashing. “Because you’re clever like that, Spymaster. Now would be the perfect time to make up your stories, cover your tracks, spin your webs. You knew that I’d hear about your visit with Yamamoto at some point, so you came oh-so-innocently to confess whatever you think I’ll believe.”

“My, my. ‘Spymaster.’ You don’t usually bandy that particular secret around so casually. You must be very jealous, very angry, indeed.” Shunsui took off his hat and fanned his face. He watched Jūshirō, who continued to glare at him.

He couldn’t really blame his partner for being upset, however. Being one of the few people in the Soul Society to know the true mission of the Eighth Division had been hard on Jūshirō at times, particularly having to live with the constant lie that your lover is a useless, drunken sot, prone to long, unexplained absences and followed around by stories of all sorts of indiscretions and dalliances.

Some of which were, unfortunately, true.

Being genuinely bisexual was an awesome tool to have at your disposal when you needed to seduce information from someone. Even though the majority of intelligence gathering could be done with simple flattery, flirting, and a generous application of alcohol, the process was still tough on the boyfriend who waited, ever patiently, at home.

Shunsui had always kept his promise to tell the truth about any actual affairs, but that honesty had hurt them some times. He suspected Jūshirō was still wounded from the last mission that required far too intimate contact. Even though it was over a hundred years ago, a betrayal was still a betrayal to such a gentle, decent soul. It only seemed to make matters worse that these things meant nothing to Shunsui, that he had never loved anyone else, ever.

Shunsui nodded, dropping all the humor to give Jūshirō the look that let him know he was being utterly sincere, “Very well, the truth. The boy is part of my games, but this is a much bigger play than all that sordid stuff you’re concerned about. I’m trying to shake up the _whole thing_ , Shirō, the whole damn thing. Something is broken in the Court Guard when so many shinigami wander the streets of the Seireitei with Asauchi—cold, dead zanpaktō. Those are souls we have lost, my love. Lost! Who knows what talents have gone wasted, what amazing powers died without ever revealing even their names? How much stronger would we be if they had not, but instead had gone into hands of people already listening, paying attention? And, what is the point of soldiers carrying such hideous, empty things at their sides? So what that they can fight with dead steel? Anyone could! I could train a monkey to fight with dead steel! It’s a crime that we consider such people shinigami! So we promote those who can see what everyone should, so what? I would rather that in the Court Guard there were only ten of us with living allies, than ten thousand with nothing but dead steel. But, since the Academy keeps insisting on churning them out, the more they continue to clog our ranks. What will become of us, if someday, no one remember what it was like to be called in a fever dream to take up the sword?”

As he grew more and more impassioned, he could see Jūshirō’s anger likewise diminish. Finally, Jūshirō smiled lightly and shook his head lovingly. “I should have known the truth would be something ridiculously romantic.”

“So, you believe me finally?” Shunsui asked, setting the hat back on his head, after wiping his brow with his sleeve. “What if it’s just another one of my pretty lies?”

“Well,” Jūshirō shrugged, handing a plate full of dumplings to Shunsui. “It’s a nice story, one I can believe in, too. Besides, if it’s a lie, you’ve laid the groundwork well for it. I’ve heard this rant many times over the centuries, especially when I thought you were smitten with that new Kenpachi.”

“Well, I was a little.”

“I know. Thank the gods the man is crazy and would kill you if you seduced him or I would have lost you to someone with bells in his hair.”

“And an eyepatch! Don’t forget the eyepatch! It’s very ruggedly handsome.”

“Hmmm,” Jūshirō grimaced, though his eyes twinkled fondly. “Eat your dumplings.”

“Yes, dear.”


End file.
